


A Pressing Reality

by sweetmusings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-War, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Time Travel, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 20:26:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetmusings/pseuds/sweetmusings
Summary: Draco and Hermione had survived the war, at a price no-one should have to pay. However, Hermione has one last ace up her sleeve.





	A Pressing Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by the works of Yurio Mishima. This is my first multi-chaptered piece, so I don't know when I will be updating. I will be aiming for weekly, to fortnightly updates. This may change.

‘And this great, meaningless, utterly dark reality was given to me, was pressed on me, with a weight that I had until then never witnessed.’ 

\- Yurio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavillion. 

 

She could do nothing but look up at the sky - drained of all colour. As things currently stood, things were bleak. Hermione did not see that changing, not in the present or otherwise.

 

Hermione lay on the barren ground, covered in bruises and stuck with an excruciating pain in her left side. She was too exhausted to even move, only able to look at the sky. 

From underneath her, debris dug into her; she was pretty certain a piece of metal had pierced her leg. She grimaced. Having ran out of medical supplies a while ago, there was nothing to do but endure it. 

 

Her mind felt as though it was split, like a puzzle with pieces that did not quite fit with one another. Pain lanced through her head, there was so much of it. Unable to decipher whether it was physical pain manifesting in her head, or emotional anguish, or perhaps a mixture of them both; she continued to stare upwards..

 

The thought that things were bleak, that they’d likely stay that way, repeated in an endless loop. If Hermione had room for emotions at the time, she might have found an ironic amusement in those words. Rather than thinking on that however, counting each cloud and chemtrail seemed like a much better idea. Anything would be better.

 

Perhaps it would numb the nightmare that continued whirling around like a tornado stuck on loop? Hermione could only guess. 

 

Everything was lost.

 

The blinding beauty of nature had dimmed and fell apart, becoming a husk of what it was before. Now, life was monotone, no longer did blinding colours greet her vision. Instead, it was all shades of black and white and greys and- it was a broken and twisted reality, a cry of anguish calling out to the lost days of calm and peace. But had things ever really- been peaceful? Hermione did not know. As far as she was concerned, her mind was grasping at too-short-straws that’d give her reason to keep pushing through, to live. She’d been lucky to survive, she should be thankful she survived, she should-

 

But was there any point, now? What would living even mean from now on? Everything was gone. 

 

Gone.

 

Gone.

 

Forever.

 

Scattered to the winds like ash. Blown away like a feather, the remainders of what made her life, her life. It may as well have just been her alone in a apocalyptic world from now on, because everything that gave her life meaning, was… gone. 

Hearing a shuffling from her right, Hermione made the agonising effort of getting up. One palm flat on the ground. Then a knee on the floor. Then pushing herself up. It took what felt like hours but had probably only been minutes. Her eyes honed in on a roughed up figure - already walking toward her - and they widened in shock.

 

‘Draco!’ 

 

Oh how badly she wanted to run, but that had been impossible so she had resorted to limping; her right arm pressed against her sore ribs. She coughed out a glob of blood; shaking her head, she was determined to make it the next few steps.

 

Her vision wavered, she was so close. More steps and more crunching sounds as her feet made contact with the ground. Noticing herself becoming faint - was it blood loss, she wondered - she stretched out her left arm - and was caught by Draco.

 

‘Draco…’ she sighed with relief as she sagged into his tired form.

 

‘You’re safe. I’ve got you. I...managed to kill the last few of those Death Eaters.’

 

Hermione felt unusually warm and light headed. ‘That’s...good…’ her speech slurred as she finally, finally let herself be claimed by sleep. Later on, she supposed that was what she got when she was awake for two days straight, and running on caffeine and pepper-up potions.

 

Draco managed to get her to the nearby forest a couple of minutes away by foot, and settled her by a huge oak tree. Pulling her sitting, sleeping form into his shoulder, he kept watch.

 

Sunset approached and still they stayed there. Sunset came and gave way to night.

Draco watched the stars twinkle and felt as though he had aged a few decades in just a few hours. The sky grew even darker, and Draco felt Hermione shift as she stirred, rubbing her eyes blearily. Then she jolted upright and pointed her wand about.

 

‘Hermione. It’s over, we did it. Remember?’ 

 

Wide eyes met his and he saw her relax minutely.

 

‘Oh… You’re right, you’re right. Of course.’

 

‘Indeed. Hermione….’ 

 

‘Hmm?’ 

 

‘I am so, so, so relieved you survived. I’m not sure how I would have- gone on if y-you…’

‘...Died?’ She supplied, holding his hand. 

 

Draco ran a hand through his dirt and blood caked hair and said nothing for a while, just holding her hand, savouring the feeling of warmth.

 

Time passed. They didn’t care how long. They didn’t let paltry facts get in the way of the fact that somehow, they’d been the only pair to somehow survive this bloodbath of extermination.

 

Hermione fiddled with her necklace, and sighed. As thankful as she was that she was here with Draco, things had not gone well for their side at all. They’d had an inconceivable amount of casualties.  _ This...would not do.  _ Standing up abruptly, she messed with a loose strand of hair.

 

‘Draco,’ she started, her voice shaky.

 

‘Yeah?’ He looked up at her, his face was still pale but it looked slightly healthier.

 

‘I... have one final solution to make things right, Draco. To resolve them, and go about everything correctly.’

 

Draco stared at her, slack jawed. Then his eyes narrowed as he opened his mouth.

 

‘But how? There’s no spell to reverse- no. No, you can’t mean that.’ He trailed off as Hermione said nothing, pulling out a time-turner from beneath her top.

 

Draco’s eyes widened as he proceeded to grasp her hands as though she were his only tether to the world. Hermione felt Draco’s hands on hers; they were shaking and she could feel his desperation. Sadly though, she had to go. Looking up at Draco, she desperately took every feature in. His face was marred by bruises from the battle, but his eyes were wide; the grief in them was so raw that Hermione felt her heart break into shards as she stared back.

 

‘Please. Hermione. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave.’

 

A deep breath in and out.

 

‘Draco…’

 

She had to do it. She had to go.

 

A heartbeat.

 

‘Mia,’ he whispered brokenly.

 

‘I’m sorry. This has to be done…’ 

 

A low sob from Draco’s throat. ‘Please, reconsider? Someone else could do this, it doesn’t have to be you! It doesn’t...anything but this, anyone but you. Just...not you. We’ve been through enough already. I only just managed to get you safe!’ His voice cracked on the last word.

 

She wavered. But then she straightened up, and looked Draco in the eye. It was what she needed to do, something only  _ she  _ could do and so Hermione shook her head resignedly. 

 

The sounds of clicking and its after echoes were barely discernible given their beating hearts.

 

‘Whatever you choose to do from now on...please don’t follow me. This is something I need to do.’

 

The minutes trickled by as the clicks carried on. 

 

Draco’s grip on her hands tightened. Frenzied. Desperate. After some time, he loosened his grip and let his arms dangle listlessly.

 

‘I trust you, Hermione. Mia. They always called you the brightest witch of our age. All those years ago, I never wanted to accept it. But now, it’s all I have to cling on to, with my memories of you, of us- to guide me through, and I want you to know. Mia. I believe in you.’

 

Swallowing, she looked into his eyes again, hoping that the intensity of her own were enough to convey her words; her feelings. ‘One day, I’ll come back. Draco, I swear it. We will meet again, I swear it.’  

 

‘I love you.’

 

Hermione choked on her emotions. She had to say something-anything. Anything before she disappeared out of this timeline. After all, it wasn’t a hundred-percent likely she’d make it back. Her Draco might not be the same Draco after this. Maybe she’d change, too.

 

‘I love you too, Draco Malfoy.’ They shared a final kiss, savouring the feeling for one last time.

 

A golden light surrounded the pair, although they were unaware of it. Their hands parted agonisingly slowly, and then - not even their fingertips were touching one another anymore. Hermione closed her eyes to blink away her approaching tears, and opened them again, giving Draco a watery smile.

Suddenly, the faint clicks ceased and she was gone in a millisecond. Just like that. Draco collapsed, broken with grief as he saw her fade out of his current time, his knees hitting the ground with a thud.

 

It was a strange thing, watching everything play out backwards.

 

As she saw her world rapidly change around her in swirls and movements, only one thought was racing through her mind. 

 

_ With what I know now, I will change everything, I vow it on my magic… _

 

With that, a bright light emanated from her person, startling her and jolting her out of the confines of her mind into awareness. Even stranger, was that the spinning as a result of her time travel had stopped as well. Yet, everything was still like a muggle photograph.

 

Moving her arm in-front of her face in an effort to shield her eyes, everything felt distorted. The light increased in volume and intensity, until Hermione’s eyes were screwed shut in agony. Eventually she gave into the pain blooming behind her eyes, in them - and screamed.

 

_ Hermione Granger, we have heard your vow and acknowledged it. Maybe you can do what others were unable to succeed in… We wish you the best of luck this time around… _

 

She did not even have time to ponder those words as suddenly the light snapped out of existence and her world went black.


End file.
